


Let Me Have Just This (Something Gentle, Something Good)

by MalachiWalker



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, F/F, It's a lot fluffier than it sounds, Post-Canon, Promise, and think about how things have changed, catra gets loved on a lot, catra has a pain flare and adora helps her through it, lots of couple banter, meanwhile they both reminisce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalachiWalker/pseuds/MalachiWalker
Summary: Turned out there was only so many times you could get electrocuted before the body started experiencing some serious consequences.Ten years after the war, Catra has a pain flare-up, and she and Adora both reflect.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 432





	Let Me Have Just This (Something Gentle, Something Good)

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on the other two fics, but given that spring rain showers tend to cause my own chronic pain to flare, let's just say I had a two day period where I was veeery inspired. So have some fluffy hurt/comfort that totally isn't me projecting onto Catradora. ;) Enjoy.

It's the rain that does it. _Tip tap, pitter patter_ , the soft murmur of droplets falling from the eaves. It drags Catra out of sleep even as the sound threatens to pull her back under.

But the fire won't let her go down, crackling across her nerves until her entire body feels like one colossal stab wound.

Had there been rain in the forecast yesterday? She can't remember now, but even with all of their magic and technology the fact remained that trying to predict the weather was a fool's game at best.

She's more angry that she didn't notice the ache setting in, to be honest, but she'd put it down to the day's training regimen and some other... _Healthy exertion_ , when she'd cuddled up to Adora last night and let that steady heartbeat lull her to sleep.

She wishes she could hear it now, but the rain drowns out the fragile sound.

Movement beside her, force distributing to the mattress and turning her bones to glass.

Catra whimpers.

The motion ceases, and she can almost picture Adora arrested mid-stretch, sleep banished from her eyes as she looks over Catra and takes in the claws digging into the mattress, the way one leg is bent almost perpendicularly to her ribcage in an attempt to relieve the ache in her back, the other stretched straight with her foot dangling off the mattress.

Some part of Catra's brain--the part she still struggles with--anticipates a long-suffering sigh, because this shit never stops, she can go months without a flare-up and almost convince herself she's finally fine but _one sudden, piddling change in temperature--!_

But the expected sigh doesn't come. Instead, blunt fingernails slide gently, _experimentally_ (even though Catra's repeatedly told her that her ears are one of the few parts of her body not affected by this) along the line of one ear before settling into a gentle back and forth rub against the base. Another groan is drawn from Catra's throat, pain and relief mixing together as one.

"Bad one, huh?" Adora whispers, and Catra loosens her grip enough to make a single decisive tap against the sheets with one claw, because it hurts too much to nod or do much of anything except groan miserably. But they've been through this enough times that it was probably a rhetorical question anyway.

"You up for a soak?" Another tap. "All right. Just... Give me a minute. I'll get the bath started."

Catra knows she bit back on a "Just breathe" or some other clichéd reassurance in that brief pause. Ordinarily, she appreciates the soft comforts: they give her something to cling to, to keep her head above the fire. But on days like today, when she's not even sure if she can manage single syllables beyond pathetic little groans and whimpers... Well, in the past such platitudes would have provoked snarls or snaps that ultimately did more harm than made her feel better, but at least let her do _something_ to express her displeasure at feeling so weak...

But they've talked about it, just like the Bright Moon doctors recommended they do in preparation for the next flare up: back when this was new and terrifying and Catra wanted so hard to just push everyone away and curl up somewhere until she was no bigger than a speck and lose herself in the pain...

 _Bypass._ She tells herself, and lets the thoughts grind to a halt and sink back down.

That trick hadn't come from a doctor. It had come years ago, when the war was still fresh in everybody's memory and Adora sat across from her on the training ground with her head in her hands and her words bleeding out while her thoughts spiralled ever downward.

_"Bypass." Catra declared firmly as she thumped Adora on the end of the nose with two fingers, like she was trying to get Swift Wind's attention._

_It worked, Adora straightened and stared at her with a confused expression that was so cute and defenseless it made Catra's heart hurt because in some ways... She still wanted to break it. But she wouldn't. She refused. "Huh?" _

_And well, Catra may not have had time to prepare a speech or anything (hard to plan for the spontaneous, after all) but she had given this a_ _lot_ _of thought and was good at thinking on her feet. So, shifting back on her heels from where she was crouched, she gestured downward. "Just listen and watch, okay?"_

_With the tip of one claw, she drew a wobbly three ringed spiral in the dirt between them, gesturing at it before tapping at the very center. "Spiral, right? It's like a maze. And when you're already at the center, there's really only two ways you can get out. You can either-"_

_Moving her claw carefully, she inscribed a much fainter path moving opposite out through the rings until it reached the "exit." "-walk out through the entire thing. Or..."_

_Returning her claw to the center point, Catra slashed outward in one quick motion. "You can slash your way through. A bypass."_

_Meeting Adora's gaze again, she asked, "Remember when they had us doing mazework back in the Horde?"_

_Adora nodded, brows furrowing. "Yeah?"_

_"Remember how you got out?"_

_"Kept my left hand on the wall to my left. Foolproof strategy."_

_"But time-consuming," Catra pointed out, neglecting to add what her younger self had: that trusting in the continued stability of the walls was exactly the kind of thing you_ _ didn't _ _want to do in the Horde, not when they were always searching for ways to kick the legs out from under you. But now she bit down on the words: it wouldn't do to undermine her own point for a bit of pettiness well past its due date. "Do you remember how I got out?"_

_"You..." Adora paused, eyes going distant for just a moment before snapping back into focus. "You jumped on top of the walls."_

_"Bingo," Catra allowed herself a small grin at the memory of just how mad Adora had been for two days over Catra "not playing by the rules"... at least until Catra had pointed out that the sole objective had been to get_ _out_ _of the maze. The only rules there had been the ones Adora brought to the table herself._

_She gestured at her drawing again. "Look, I'm not saying it'll work every time. But whenever you feel yourself spiralling, just remember you have more than one option. You can either walk back out-"_

_"-or I can bypass," Adora finished for her, running her finger along the slash._

_"Exactly."_

And in some ways, maybe that was when they started to heal. Because Adora _listened_ to her then, the same way she listened much later while Catra haltingly tried to put to words how on the worst days those reassuring platitudes felt like ground glass rubbing up against her pain: the more she tried to soothe it away, the more it only stoked the flames. That had been particularly hard for Adora to wrap her head around: it went against her protective nature to just stay silent and passive when people around her were in pain (especially Catra.)

But still. She listened. And just like how she sometimes paused and muttered "bypass" to herself when she sensed her thoughts building downward momentum, Adora worked at it.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Catra almost jumps at the soft sound of a body sliding across the sheets to her left before settling next to her; close enough that she can sense the warmth coming off Adora's body, but not touching her.

"It's ready," Adora whispers again. "Do you think you can stand, or do you want me to help?"

"Help" is a good word. "Help" means options, even if they both know that Adora's really asking if Catra needs to be carried. But she still makes concessions like that for Catra's stubborn pride.

The thought makes her smile, before she unclenches her jaw and grinds out, "Let me check, okay?"

A little noise of affirmation and Adora slides off the bed, giving Catra room to work. She straightens the bent leg first, hissing sharply as the pain flares across her back at the movement before settling at the same time she does. Using her arms--still stretched over her head--for leverage, she shuffles a little until she's just on the edge of the bed, before taking a deep breath and sliding off.

The gravity shift makes everything settle that much heavier on her and she staggers, instinctively reaching out for something to hold onto. Thankfully, Adora quickly steps in from her careful distance, letting Catra put an arm on her shoulder to steady herself, but not touching in return while they both wait for the vertigo to stop.

Once steady, Catra takes a deep breath and experimentally takes a step forward. She can barely lift her foot more than an inch off the ground before reflexively lowering it and she can't step far, but... She can walk. If this can be called walking without irony.

"I think I got this," She tells Adora, meeting her gaze properly for the first time since she woke up. "But I'll probably need your help getting in."

It's partly a concession to soothe her girlfriend, but that doesn't make it any less true.

It takes what feels like hours (but is probably only two or three minutes) to make their way over to the adjoining bathroom, Adora once again keeping close in case Catra needs the support but otherwise refraining from touching her. She's quiet, probably not wanting either of them to feel rushed, and even if she's caught up in frustration by the state of her own body Catra appreciates her more than words can say.

The bathroom's mostly dark but for a few flickering candles and the soft glow of the gem set into the side of the tub. Not too long after all this started, Adora had done some consulting with Micah and Castaspella when it became obvious that Catra's worst episodes required hour long or more soaks to bring the pain down to somewhat manageable, and usually necessitated draining and refilling the bath several times as it went cold. So Castaspella and Micah had managed to jury-rig a spell that would keep the bath at a comfortable temperature for as long as possible and bound it up into the gem.

Seeing it lit up makes Catra smile a little, remembering how tentatively Adora had raised the option with her. "I don't want you to think I'm running roughshod over you or anything... But if you want to use it..."

(She never had gotten to finish that thought once Catra started kissing her.)

"All right," Adora murmurs as they pull up short next to the tub and Catra's suddenly very grateful she hadn't been in the mood to put on pajamas after last night. "I'll try to make this quick and easy. Arm across shoulders?"

Catra obeys, biting back a little hiss at the contact even though the flare of pain quickly dissipates. Gingerly, Adora slides one hand to Catra's left hip and uses the other to lift her knees until she's got her in a half bridal carry before lowering her into the water.

Settling in is always the worst part; all the little motions triggering stabs of pain across her body as she tries to find a position she can hold comfortably until the water does its work. Adora's hand rubbing against her ear again helps, though, and soon Catra's able to stretch her legs out and pillow her head on her crossed arms atop the side of the tub--partly so she doesn't have to be concerned if she falls asleep, but largely just so she can watch her.

"Good," Adora says with a soft smile when it becomes clear that Catra's found a good position. "I'm gonna go take care of a few things, okay? Just rest."

She gets a chirrup in agreement and moves off into the house, though not without a final parting scritch that has Catra's toes curling.

"Taking care of a few things" is code for Adora getting the routine chores out of the way while they both wait for the flare-up to loosen its grip: clothes in the laundry, setting aside easy food for when they get hungry (to Catra's endless amusement, Adora still can't cook to save her life), and, of course, sending out a message to all their friends of, "Hey, we're staying in today, please try not to need us."

Benefits of that old Alliance social decorum: they all know what that means, and how to respect the situation without making that respect seem too much like pity.

It used to make Catra guilty: having to do all that, but it wasn't like she didn't do the same for Adora when she had bad mental health days. The pain just has a way of blowing everything out of proportion, making accepting help harder than it should be.

Wasn't like it hadn't taken a fight either. Even if Catra had always known the Horde was shit, it was hard to let go of a lifetime where showing even the slightest sign of vulnerability was a good way to get ganged up on and pounded flat. It had taken the better part of a year and a half of struggling, negotiations and back steps before the two of them finally started to figure out how to handle these situations in a way that worked for both of them.

_"I'm just trying to help, Catra!"_

_"Well, you're making it worse!" She spat, but really her brain was snarling, 'I. Am not. WEAK.'_

And that wasn't even touching on the fact that the Horde and its bull-headed insistence on strength and self-sufficiency and lack of decent fucking medical care had been the cause of all this to start with: turned out there was only so many times you could get electrocuted before the body started experiencing some serious consequences, enhanced Magicat biology or not.

Gods, Adora had been so damn _worried_ the first time she stopped by Catra's then room at Bright Moon to find out why she hadn't been at their weekly training session, only to discover Catra still curled up in bed barely able to move and with no idea why. That worry had only gotten worse when the doctors admitted there wasn't a lot that could be done: heat and basic pain relievers could help with the soreness that tended to accompany such flare-ups, but there wasn't much she could do about the actual nerve misfires except back her ears and ride it out.

_"Just leave me be. I can take care of this myself."_

_"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to!"_

_Man, I was such a melodramatic ass back then,_ Catra chuckles, before letting the thoughts settle down again, mind drifting in and out of consciousness beyond the occasional noise of Adora moving around the house. She barely even notices the time passing until her ears prick up at the soft brush of bare feet on tile. Cracking one eye open, she's not surprised to see Adora crouching across from her, head likewise propped on the side of the tub and that same soft little smile playing across her lips. "Ready to get out?"

Catra wiggles experimentally. Pain's still there, obviously, but it's been dampened now; less fire licking at her skin and more an overall soreness, like getting the crap kicked out of her in a training exercise. It's doable. "... Yeah."

"All right. I've already got the mat laid out, so whenever you're ready."

Yeah, climbing out on her own was never gonna happen. Taking a deep breath to shove down the part of her that still screams _Weak! Weak!_ she adjusts herself to make it easier on both of them and lets Adora pick her up.

Good thing she does, too: the water weighing down her fur feels like it's doubled her weight and Adora grunts softly as she adjusts her hold, her white tank top and sleep shorts skipping straight past damp over to sopping. She doesn't seem to care, though, so Catra likewise doesn't comment beyond a little snicker.

"What's so funny?" Adora asks as she nudges open the door to their bedroom with a foot.

"Nothin'. Just thinking about how you're totally winning the wet t-shirt contest."

"Oh, hush," Adora laughs, brushing her lips against Catra's temple with a smile.

One of the many things Bright Moon definitely had up on the Fright Zone was the little innovations that made life easier, and with so many thick-furred hybrids running around... Well, discovering the water absorbing drying mats had been a very happy surprise indeed, especially given how much of a bitch it had been trying to dry all of her fur with only her single Horde-issued towel. She'd checked several times to see if the thing was magic, with how well it leeched the water from her fur.

Stretching out on her belly across the mat--laid out on the floor at the foot of their bed--Catra feels wholly at ease, listening to the sounds of Adora stripping down and depositing her wet clothes in the hamper.

"You want pjs after?"

She chews over that one. With how hot she runs, Catra doesn't usually bother with pajamas beyond maybe flannel pants (and that has more to do with enjoying the look than any actual need) but if she's going to be just laying around all day... "Yeah, probably a good idea. Less distracting that way."

"Getting a little cocky there, aren't you?"

"Oh please, Princess. We both know I can wear as much--or as little--as I please and still have your eyes on me."

"Yeah, well," Even with her eyes closed, Catra can hear the smile. "Some things don't change."

"My hotness is indeed eternal."

"Brat cat."

"Gym rat."

They share a laugh between them as Adora settles cross legged next to her. "You okay to be touched or do you just want to let the mat do it's work?"

Hmm... Catra wiggles again. Pain's still down; she can handle it in exchange for a little pampering. As a treat. "Good to go. Do your worst."

"Wow. You really think that highly of me, huh?" The first brush of the cloth against her back is a little startling, but she eases into it.

"Stop with the humble hero crap, Adora. We both know your worst is better than most people's best."

"Keep sweet-talking like that and I'll be the one with the big head," Adora warns, and then they're silent for a while, the only sounds the continued rat-a-tat of the rain on the roof and the purrs emanating from Catra's chest.

Far too soon, the touch of microfiber is replaced with the delicious feeling of blunt nails carding through the fur along her back, the base of her tail, the back of her neck, only a _little_ teasing. Catra shivers, mumbling. "Think you're going a little above and beyond there, 'dora."

"Can't help it. You know I love your fur," Well, even without the verbal confirmation, the way Adora couldn't resist running her fingers through it at every given opportunity would have been a dead giveaway. Catra's halfway to saying as such, but gets cut off by a yawn.

Adora chuckles, still tracing the line of dark fur running along Catra's spine. "Nap time?"

"Yeah. This one's taking a lot out of me."

"Well, we're free for the rest of the day."

"That is still so weird," The concept of free days was so anathema to their upbringing it was borderline surreal, though ironically Catra had taken to it far easier than Adora, her old days of teenage rebellion managing to be a boon for once.

"I know, right?"

In no time at all, they're both dressed again and Catra is curled sideways on the bed, head resting on Adora's stomach (and for maybe the hundredth time she mentally blesses Bow for his ridiculous sense of fashion, because that crop top together with those abs is the gift that keeps on giving,) tail twitching back and forth before settling on twining around Adora's ankle. Adora, half propped up by pillows, indulges in some light reading while her free hand absentmindedly continues to stroke Catra's mane and ears.

The rain keeps going.

\----------

It takes hours, but Adora feels the shift when Catra finally nods off; one second she's as relaxed as she can be in this situation--but still noticeably tense to someone who has known her as long as Adora--the next her breathing evens out and that tension drains away. Even the part of her tail still wrapped against Adora's leg slackens.

Good. She needs the rest, and it gives Adora some time to reflect without getting distracted by those cute little chuffs and contented sighs. This episode was pretty bad. Adora could tell even without Catra's admission: she'll never stop being thankful that Catra feels safe enough to talk about it freely with her, but even though she likes to think they both handled it pretty well today... There's always room for improvement. And keeping that in mind is important to her.

 _Wonder if last night made it worse,_ she muses, before catching herself. _Nope. Not going there. Last night was good. Today's not so good. But one doesn't necessarily lead to the other._

She knows that, deep down in the logical portion of her brain, but it's sometimes hard to remember. Adora is a problem solver. A fixer, despite how unpleasant that root word has become after a long time spent working on her own issues. But it's still hard to remember that sometimes there isn't anything she _can_ fix.

It's even harder to keep that in mind when the person suffering is someone she loves.

_Catra turned away, shoulders stiff and body language thoroughly closed off after the doctors explained the nerve pain and its likely causes to her. "It's fine, Adora. No point in getting upset over something that can't be helped."_

_Hypocrite,_ she thinks fondly as she watches her lover sleep, running her fingers through her hair. _Like you didn't tear the training dummies to shreds for weeks afterward._

But that was Catra in a nutshell. Always so keen to handle things on her own, always trying to keep Adora from getting upset or worrying too much. Especially back then, with the war less than a year over and both of them still figuring out how to handle every horrible thing that had happened to them. What they had done to each other.

She sighs. Should've known her thoughts would drift that way sooner or later.

Electrical damage, sustained long-term over a number of years. That had been the most probable origin point the doctors could agree on, and by her own begrudging admission Catra had been tortured by Shadow Weaver's stolen magic more times than she could count.

"If getting the shit shocked out of you was a competitive sport, I'd win the Etherian-wide lifetime achievement award," She had snarked when she finally felt ready to address her increased absences to their friends. But even though the words had been intended as a casual brush off, a way to downplay everything that happened... The hurt and residual anger still bled through.

_Did I contribute to that?_

Adora had disregarded it at the time (because she'd been so focused on _fixing_ things) but in hindsight... The look of affected disinterest on Catra's face rapid cycling into pure _fear_ when Adora grabbed the shock baton in the portal reality, cutting straight through those false memories of a pain-free life and hitting something real and terrified...

It bothered Adora. Rather, it _haunted_ her.

_Really puts that little electric trap of hers into a new perspective._

_"Pretty good, huh? I got the idea from Shadow Weaver. At least she was good for something in the end."_

... Electricity was weaponized everywhere in the Fright Zone. Shock staffs, shock batons, cannons... Even their magical trump card, the Black Garnet. If Adora rifles through her memories, she can remember dozens of times when training had resulted in cadets getting "mildly" electrocuted. Even she'd been on the end of it a few times herself, back when she was younger and less coordinated.

_Why's Catra the only one who has to deal with this, then?_

The shocks had hurt, of course; the Horde didn't believe in lessons without pain. But they weren't supposed to cause any real damage. The pain was supposed to teach them, it was supposed to remind them what not to do.

But there had never been a lesson. Not really.

Just pain.

... These thoughts are getting her nowhere.

"Mnn..."

She freezes at a low grumble, too afraid to move when Catra repeats the sound and curls her limbs tighter, rubbing her head against Adora's hip as she tries to get closer before settling again.

It's hard not touching her right now, but Adora supposes she should be grateful that Catra can touch her, even if she can't reciprocate. She'd compared the disparity between touching and being touched during an episode once to the difference between something prodding at a bruise or _choosing_ to lie down on it, which had done wonders to help Adora understand. So unless Catra tells her it's okay, she keeps her hands to herself.

Though, if Adora's being honest, the by now mandatory cuddle sessions once the soreness passes definitely make up for the discomfort she feels holding herself back. It just sucks being in the actual moment.

 _Making it about yourself again, huh,_ _ Hero_ _?_

... Where had the tipping point been? Shadow Weaver? Those times fighting with Glimmer? Or maybe... Back in the porta-

Sharp teeth dig into Adora's side and she jolts halfway up with a yelp. "Catra, what the fu--"

A single word cuts her off. "Bypass."

Catra's watching her now, blue eye cracked open and still half hazy with sleep. When Adora doesn't say anything, she sighs, mouthing at the bite mark to soothe the sting. "I can practically hear the gears in your head spinning. Didn't seem like you were gonna stop it yourself. So... Bypass."

"Sorry."

"Did I ask for an apology?" Catra pushes herself up on one elbow with a grunt of pain, tail lashing behind her, before tapping Adora's sternum with a finger. "Look. If I don't get to beat myself up over the shit I did _knowing_ it was a bad idea, then you don't get to beat yourself up for the things you didn't even know about. We're done with that, okay?"

"I know that," Adora assures her, because it's easier for her to say it and believe it when it's Catra she's talking to and not just arguing with her own thoughts. "It's just... Harder to remember on days like today."

"Yeah, well," Catra's ears twitch as she settles back down, though she keeps her hand where it is. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dealing with some bad thoughts myself. You know it's partially the weather, right? Micah told me once that our brains don't really like it when the sun's gone for longer than a night."

"I guess that makes sense. Probably also explains why everyone was always so bitchy back at the Fright Zone."

"Right? Or why Hordak was always all _'Fear me. I will sit in this shadow all menacingly,'"_ She pitches her voice low in a decent approximation of Hordak's growl. _"'-and hope nobody figures out I don't know how to talk to people.'_ I swear, I think the first time he saw the sun in twenty years was when we took over Salineas."

There had been a time in the not-too distant past where mentioning the war and Catra's part in nearly conquering Etheria would have caused them both to flinch. But now... It is what it is. Something to never be fully forgotten, but not something to define them. Not anymore.

"Hey," Catra's hand, warm and soft on Adora's skin, shifts until it's just off-center along the line of her chest. "You know this isn't some probability game, right? One in a hundred chance, every failure resets the odds that you'll win the sucktastic prize of lifelong chronic pain? Yeah, no."

_"Adora... I get it. Really," Glimmer's voice, years ago, when Catra was still resisting any and all help and it was so hard not to feel like it was somehow her fault. "But the only person to blame here is Shadow Weaver. She contributed like 99% of the damage. But if you really need someone else to blame, blame me. I shocked Catra a heck of a lot harder than you did, so that remaining 1%? Nine-tenths of it is mine. Got that?"_

_The last words were firm, spoken by a woman who had grown into command, and--more importantly--into the_ _ responsibility _ _of command, and Adora was struck by the realization that they were_ _ all _ _growing into this strange new life they'd fought and bled for.  
_

_But then Glimmer grinned, playful and free and very much like the girl she had been, back before the war had turned her into someone hurting and wrathful. "Also, just so you know: I'm pretty sure disagreeing with your queen could be considered grounds for treason. So the sooner you accept that you had nothing to do with it, the sooner we can get our favorite stubborn fluffball to see the light and accept our help."_

In the present, Catra continues. "So you shocked me a few times, I'll give you that. But that's coppers compared to the pounds upon pounds of bullion Shadow Weaver hurled at me. So even if we took your contributions away, I can guarantee we'd both still be right here, dealing with this."

Right. Adora remembers. She takes Catra's hand in hers, turning it over so she can lay a kiss against the palm as she finishes the thought.

"Together."

Catra's face softens.

"Yeah. Together."

_"Listen... I know you can handle this on your own. You're strong, stronger than anyone I've ever met. Only a complete idiot would doubt you. But I don't want you to have to do it alone, Catra. Do you know why?"_

_"... Why?"_

_"Because I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."_

\----------

It's the light that wakes her the next morning. Well, light and a weird sense of dissonance because she can _swear_ she still hears the rain falling even though her eyes are telling her that's impossible. At least until she rolls over and gropes for the body that should be next to her, only to come up empty.

Sitting up, Adora finally processes that the sound is coming from the bathroom and puts two and two together. _Shower. That's good, at least. Must be feeling better._

The scent of coffee is in the air, beckoning. Catra must have turned on the pot so it would be ready when she got out. So, ignoring the urge to hover ( _she's fine; we're fine_ ) Adora follows her impulses--and that scent--into their kitchen.

She's midway through her cup when a knock comes at the door, firm but otherwise unobtrusive. Shrugging on a jacket over her crop top and shorts, Adora answers.

"Morning, Adora," Bow greets her with a big smile, before holding up a small basket. "Brought you guys some breakfast."

"You are the best," Adora tells him with all sincerity, taking the basket in one hand and giving him a hug with her free arm. "To what do we owe the occasion?"

"Well Glimmer can't get away right now, so after she got your message yesterday she asked me to--and I quote--'get something tasty for our favorite blonde and the furball, since you know they'll be too wrapped up in each other to take care of themselves.' Took 'em a while to bake this morning, but here ya go. Homemade scones. I made blueberry vanilla, so they're sweet, but not _so_ sweet that they'll upset Catra's stomach if she's still feeling bad."

"I know I already said you're the best, but you don't need to constantly top yourself," Adora chuckles. "And you can tell Glimmer I see right through her 'I am the Queen, I can't let on that I'm actually worried about my best frenemy' schtick."

(More friend than enemy at this point, even if the pair's teasing bickering at the Alliance's more public gatherings had confused more than one set of guards.)

"You got it," A thumbs up, and then Bow's smile softens. He leans in, lowering his voice in case of nearby Magicat ears. "How's Catra doing?"

Adora pauses, choosing her words carefully. "She seems to be doing better this morning. She was already in the shower when I woke up."

"Uh-huh. And how about…?"

"It is what it is," Adora shrugs. "Yesterday was bad, but I mean… We've been doing everything we can. Keeping up on regular exercise, healthy eating, regular trips to the hot springs at Mystacor, and it's not like we don't have our game plan down to a science by now. Just sometimes there's just not a lot we can do except wait it out."

She smiles wryly, and it feels less like an admission of weakness and more an acceptance of her own limits. "Guess even the mighty She-ra can't fight the weather."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you'd give it a run for its money," Bow winks, patting her on the shoulder. "Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. I know both of you--"

And here, he gives her a _very_ knowing eyebrow raise. "--could use the extra rest. And now you can rest a little easier knowing breakfast's on your good old pal, Bow. Tell Catra I said hi, okay?"

"I will," Adora assures as she gives him a parting hug. "And we'll probably be up at the castle in a day or two to see what's up. Give Glimmer my thanks as well, okay?"

"I will. But it isn't that big a deal, you know?" He pauses on the path, looking back with his trademark smile. "Gotta take care of our two best buds."

There had been a time when words like that would have felt like a concession. Now, however? They're just honest.

Adora's still smiling as she walks back to the bedroom with a pair of scones on a plate, the rest deposited in the kitchen. The sounds of the shower have ceased, and as she bumps open the door she's pleased to find Catra already sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on a pair of loose pajama pants. "Already dried off?"

"Yup," Catra stretches with a loud yawn, before her ears flick forward and her nose wrinkles as she catches the scent of breakfast. "Ooh, whatcha got there?"

"Offerings from Bow. And some loving insults from Glimmer."

"Aww… I knew she cared. Careful, Adora. I think she's gunning for your spot in my heart," She pats the bed next to her, and Adora obeys with a grin of her own.

"Better not be. That spot's been on private reservation for a long time, and I'm not giving it up without a fight."

"Ooh, I'm swooning," Catra throws her arms melodramatically over her head, and for a moment it's so much like her "Ah! Betrayal!" joke from back then, back before a magic sword tore them apart and nearly broke them both, that it makes Adora's heart skip a beat.

But the way Catra looks now--relaxed, happy, softer than Adora could have ever imagined being possible at eighteen--wipes that anxiousness away just as quickly as it came.

The awe must show on her face, because Catra laughs softly, one hand going to the back of Adora's neck to pull her in for a kiss.. "Love ya too, dork."

 _Wow. Look how far we've come._ Even when the kiss ends far too soon for her liking, Adora leans in, pressing her forehead against Catra's and chasing that closeness. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Setting the plate aside for a minute, Catra leans in turn, prodding with her elbow until Adora laughs and lets her squirm her way into her arms. "A little sore and a _lot_ tired, but the pain's gone."

Finally, the last of that nervousness that's been clutching at her since yesterday loosens its grip. "That's good. Better than good."

"Uh-huh." Adora barely even finishes processing that knowing lilt before Catra knocks her back onto the bed and straddles her with a smirk. "And how are _you_ feeling, Miss Worrywart?"

With all the thinking she's been doing, the answer comes simply. "Better. Getting better all the time."

"Even on the bad days?"

"Even on the bad days."

"Heh. Now that's not bad at all."


End file.
